


unsent, 01:29 a.m.

by disstrack



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Magical Realism, Music Artist Seo Changbin, Pining, hyunjin works in corporate, just a hint of it, skz are in their late twenties approaching early thirties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disstrack/pseuds/disstrack
Summary: If there's anything Hyunjin has learned when it comes to Changbin, it's that he might as well enjoy every fleeting moment.or: Changbin is a fever dream, and Hyunjin wants a little something more than restless mornings.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin
Comments: 17
Kudos: 84





	unsent, 01:29 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> this is technically a re-post of an old work i did for another fandom, though i tweaked a lot of things about it. meant to be a fill to the "things you said at 1am" prompt, and the story is entirely inspired by mxmtoon's [fever dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnD-1FgZRK0), which you should give a listen to. 
> 
> the fic was admittedly only meant to be around a 7k angst fic, but then it became longer than that, and even then, i felt like there were more moments that could've been explored, but frankly, i wanted to already post this -- partly to make up for the fact that i haven't updated my fake dating changjin fic in half a year TT__TT and because i really like au ideas wherein only some members of skz (or well, just one in this case) actually pursue music and become famous and the rest either don't or do other things.

now, love is just another leap of faith  
but i jump right in  
i took the train, i took the call  
i didn’t know just where i’d fall or where it’d take me  
another step, another state, i’ll never know if i’ll get there  
but just maybe i want something more than restless mornings

**;;**

Han Jisung has this bad habit of entering Hyunjin’s office unannounced and without permission. He also tends to lounge inside whenever he wants to fuck around or doesn’t work, and also never updates Hyunjin with anything particularly helpful going on in the company, like he _should_ be doing, though Jisung has unfailingly managed to repeatedly remind Hyunjin to do his own job. 

He’s a terrible subordinate, really. Hyunjin honestly doesn’t know what to do with him. 

Not that Hyunjin is any better as Jisung’s boss. It’s mid-afternoon when Jisung catches him not on his computer reading the emails and reports sent by the employees under his department, which was supposedly his agenda for today. 

Contrary to what he usually does, Jisung doesn’t call him out on it; instead, he announces, “Changbin-hyung’s back.”

He says it simply, without warning, like it isn’t a big deal. “What about it?” Hyunjin asks, sounding disinterested, because it _isn’t_ a big deal. He’s fiddling with his phone, tapping his thumbs against different areas of the screen to gain more points for his game. He’s almost in the final round. The moment he’ll finish the game, he’ll use Jeongin’s untouched account and play all over again. From the corner of his eye, he can tell that Jisung’s giving a look from the doorframe of his office. 

“Nothing.” he eventually replies. It doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like Jisung wants Hyunjin to do something. The joke is on Jisung, really, because Hyunjin doesn’t want to do anything. “Just thought you should know.”

“Right.” Hyunjin says, as if that’s really it. “Why don’t you tell me something actually useful?”

“Okay.” Jisung pauses. “He told me he wanted to see you.” That works. Hyunjin fucks up and his hands slip, press the wrong thing, and the game abruptly ends with him failing the round. It’s out of clumsiness, not because of anything else. Jisung only blinks, but Hyunjin swears there’s a hint of a smirk on his face. “How does that work?”

“I should have you fired.”

Jisung laughs loudly at that, clearly amused, and places something on Hyunjin’s desk before walking out, because that’s really the only reason he even came. It’s a picture that shows what Hyunjin knows to be a large clock tower. In the back are a few words written in the sender’s messy scrawl, saying, _Coming back soon,_ but Hyunjin doesn’t actually read it, because the message is always the same _._ The only thing that really does change is the content of the image. Changbin’s version of a postcard. 

Hyunjin takes the photograph and tucks it into a folder he has that’s full of them. 

**;;**

I need to talk to you.  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 12:46 a.m._ **

**;;**

The first time it happens. 

The first time it happens—

Hyunjin doesn’t actually think much about it. It’s not one of those things that you really notice. It’s not that he and Changbin are so close that things like that are considered normal; Hyunjin remembers being college, rooming with Minho, and it wouldn’t be much of a surprise to see snacks he bought left behind in Hyunjin’s pantry, or Felix, his best friend, forgetting to take home his extra power bank after staying over for an afternoon. 

It’s nothing like that. It’s just that, given their circumstances, Hyunjin assumes it’s just one of those things that _may_ happen, so they tend to do so. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, when he turns away from what he’s doing by the stove and sees Changbin already halfway out the door. He’s fully and properly dressed from the same getup he wore yesterday, reaching for the jacket he had discarded the night before right by the couch. 

“I got something to do.” Changbin answers, sounding distracted. His jacket is half-on and one of the laces of his shoes is untied. His feet are still bony despite the big build he’s acquired over the years, tucked in his bright red and rather ugly sneakers. Hyunjin absentmindedly wonders if the other might trip on his way out or to wherever he’s going — Changbin never tells unless he asks; Hyunjin has a theory as to why, but he doesn’t have the courage to bring it up — but he doesn’t tell Changbin to tie them. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Who says I do?” Hyunjin retorts, but Changbin just glances at him with a knowing look on his face, and Hyunjin scoffs. 

Changbin simply laughs. “See you.” he says, two words so familiar to Hyunjin and his heart. After he leaves, like he always does, Hyunjin stares at the door.

“Okay.” he replies, quiet, compliant, even if there’s no one to hear his reply. He turns back to the eggs he was frying, biting his lip. Maybe next time then. Hyunjin should wipe the plate clean if he wants the erase the bitter taste in his mouth. He’s never liked eating too much, but he doesn’t think he can stomach any sign of proof that he made a meal for more than one when it’s only him around. 

Later, when he’s gathering all the dirty clothes he left strewn on the floor from the night and other nights before, he finds a pair of orange socks that he swears he doesn’t own. Maybe it’s Changbin’s. Hyunjin doesn’t remember the other even wearing socks yesterday, but doubts it, even if he tends not to pay attention to details like that when Changbin’s already in bed with him in the first place. 

It’s strange, but Hyunjin puts them in the hamper to be cleaned anyway. 

**;;**

About what?  
 **_sent to Changbin, 12:58 a.m._ **

**;;**

There’s a quiet ache resting on Hyunjin’s shoulders that can only be brought about because of a day’s worth of exhausting work, but he trudges on anyway, pretends like it doesn’t exist so even just the thought of it wouldn’t lull him to sleep. It’s just for a night anyway, and it’s not like pushing through tiredness isn’t something Hyunjin’s never done before. He can deal with it, just like he’s always done. 

Hongdae is a lot quieter when it’s not the weekend, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’ll never get used to the streetlights, the loud chatter, the thundering music. He guesses that he doesn’t really have to. After all, Hyunjin only needs one familiar thing from here to know where to go. 

“Found you.” he says at least. Changbin smiles upon hearing Hyunjin’s relieved voice, uncovered by the mask that hangs from his face, and it’s brighter than any streetlight. It’s so blinding that Hyunjin immediately turns around, walking away, and doesn’t wait for Changbin to catch up to him. “It’s a different place this time.” 

“It’s not like this is a professional gig. There’s no special spot meant just for me.” Changbin explains, catching up to him. “Besides, I’m not a regular.”

“You’re a regular enough.” Hyunjin grumbles. Nearby, he hears the cries of screaming teenage girls. From the corner of his eye, he spots countless camera flashes, numerous phones being held up to take pictures and videos, all pointed in their direction. “C’mon.”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” questions Changbin, noticing how hurriedly Hyunjin’s steps are as they stroll. 

“‘Cause your fanclub fucking freaks me out.” Hyunjin replies. “Please put your mask on.”

Changbin laughs. Hyunjin looks at him. The black getup looks good on him, makes his muscular figure more prominent and his dyed chestnut hair more noticeable, regardless of the fact that it’s mostly hidden under the cap. He looks like a normal busker, especially when he wears the mask, and Hyunjin remembers a time when that was all he was, rapping on the streets half trying to make a name for himself and half simply enjoying what he was doing, even if it would get him nowhere in life. Hyunjin remembers a time when the only camera out to watch him perform was Hyunjin’s old-fashioned video camera. 

Hyunjin doesn’t watch his performances anymore. Hasn’t for years. Changbin never asks him to. The most Hyunjin will do is pick him up in the aftermath of it, whenever he can, and though it’s unsaid, it has always been more than enough. 

Changbin puts the mouth mask back on and Hyunjin almost regrets telling him to do it, wants to see more of the other’s face and the animated expressions he makes because Changbin’s always been so fucking good at it, almost as good as he is when he performs. But he needs to blend in the crowd so his admirers will know when to stop tailing him. Hyunjin doesn’t know much about the entertainment life and fanbases, but he knows that Changbin got the lucky end of it, having fans who know when to give him space and when to shower him with attention. 

“You didn’t bring any equipment.” Hyunjin points out. 

Changbin shrugs. “Borrowed from a friendly busker. I didn’t perform long.”

He didn’t perform long, yet it’s nearing ten in the evening, late. Hyunjin wonders what time Changbin even got here. “Must pay to be famous.”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “You’re just jealous you don’t have what it takes.”

Hyunjin doesn’t bother gracing him with a response to that. Instead, he asks, “Have you eaten anything?”

Changbin shakes his head. “No.”

“Great. Me neither.” Beneath the mask, Hyunjin can catch the outline of Changbin’s grin. He smiles at the strangest times, like there’s some sort of glee in the ordinary things that Hyunjin isn’t getting. “Let’s go find something.”

They eat late dinner at a convenience store, a block away from the subway station because they can’t eat inside, even though they aren’t college kids anymore and are earning more than enough to treat themselves out to fancier places. The food wakes Hyunjin up, but it does the opposite for Changbin, makes him let his shoulders slump and his eyes become bleary, as if the exhaustion from performing is finally catching up to him. Hyunjin tugs the other before he can collapse in front of the trash can, where they’re supposed to be dumping their waste, not falling into it like they’re comfortable beds, trying to keep him conscious and on his feet and barely managing to succeed. 

Changbin all but blacks out when they board the subway car leading back to Songpa, falls asleep on Hyunjin’s lap like the younger isn’t still made of the same bony legs and a bunch of random junk stuffed in the pockets of his pants like he was back in college. There’s barely anyone inside, thankfully, so the older can take up as much space on the seats as he wants. Changbin is adorable; Hyunjin mindlessly combs through Changbin’s hair, and the latter doesn’t even stir at the notion. Hyunjin doesn’t use the period of silence the subway grants to think much, just lets his gaze flicker here and there, wandering aimlessly and restlessly because he won’t let his thoughts do it. 

They both live in Songpa, but in different neighborhoods. They’re close enough to one another though, so Hyunjin doesn’t bristle too much at the fact that he has to take Changbin to his rented townhouse. Sometimes Hyunjin is surprised about that fact, that until now, Changbin still has an actual place to stay and eat and sleep in when it isn’t in Hyunjin’s, because he frequents his nights in Hyunjin’s arms one way or another. Whenever the older comes back to Korea, he’s always doing something, always in more than one place each day he spends, so the concept of a permanent residence sounds silly. 

Hyunjin somehow manages to drop Changbin off at his place without the older even realizing it. It’s always taken Changbin a while to fully reconnect with the world after coming from dreamland, and Hyunjin finds watching the process amusing to watch. Changbin blinks, staring up at the entrance of his place, clarity slowly glistening in his droopy eyes. “Ah,” he starts. “Back home.”

It’s a word Changbin’s never said a lot, but even when he does, at this moment, it doesn’t sound like what it really is, doesn’t sound like he means it. Hyunjin doesn’t blame him, because he can’t pinpoint what he views to be _home_ either. He thought about it before, but the closest thing he could come to a _home_ is a person, not a place, not a feeling. 

Really, Hyunjin tries not to bother with those sorts of thoughts anymore. It only makes his heart feel heavy. 

“Thanks.” Changbin says, suddenly more awake now, when they’ve climbed the doorsteps of his house. Hyunjin gets the keys from Changbin’s left pocket and unlocks the door for him. “You didn’t have to.” 

“I know.” is all Hyunjin says. Changbin doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Wanna sleep over?” asks the other, almost a bit hesitantly. “If you’re too tired to walk all the way back home.”

The offer sends a warm flush down his neck. Hyunjin has never been inside Changbin’s house. Doesn’t know how long the older has had it, what rooms he may have, what furniture he doesn’t. The curiosity to learn — the longing to _know_ — grows, but Hyunjin shakes his head, not just as a response to Changbin’s words, but also to shake off the thoughts. “I’m still half-convinced you don’t even have a bed in that practically abandoned place of yours, so no.” he teases. Changbin makes an indignant sound, clearly protesting, but Hyunjin’s already turned around and started his trip back to his home. He simply waves without looking back, and doesn’t look back to see if Changbin has entered his house after the air falls silent. 

Of course Hyunjin won’t say yes. If he does, he may never want to leave. 

**;;**

How do you not fall in love with someone?  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:03 a.m._ **

**;;**

Hyunjin mostly hates winter because of the amount of snow that piles up by his front yard. His friends think it’s fun, and he probably would have had the same thought if he didn’t live on his own and was still fourteen. He considers calling them, if only to let them enjoy the thick blanket of snow in front of his house before making them clean it all up themselves, but he thinks better of it, because they’d probably just make a bigger mess than Hyunjin already needs. 

(Sometimes it feels like his friends haven’t let the fact sunk in that they’re approaching their early thirties, and it’s only Hyunjin who has accepted this reality, but he isn’t going to bother wasting his breath reminding them of it.) 

“Hey, handsome.” Someone greets, and Hyunjin stills. He doesn’t need to turn, because he knows it’s Changbin. The amount of people who call him that are pretty scarce anyway; life is no longer like it was back in his school days. “Don’t you have work today?”

“I’m the boss. I don’t have to come in every day.” Hyunjin says. “‘Sides, this work is more important than whatever I need to get accomplished at the office.”

“More important than going out with me too?” Changbin asks, grinning. “I was thinking of going to the park. It’s nice around this time of the year.”

It’s winter. Hyunjin can’t think of anything less pleasant than dawdling in the park, freezing his ass off just to look at the same things he sees every year, but he gets that Changbin hasn’t been around in a while. He probably hasn’t gotten to appreciate Korean winter for years, which Hyunjin guesses is somehow different from winter in other countries. “Have fun alone then.” Hyunjin replies. 

“Killjoy.” Changbin pouts, but Hyunjin’s already gotten back to shoveling the snow. “Where do you plan on putting all that anyway?”

“Where else?” says Hyunjin. “My neighbor seems to need it more than I do.”

“You are a bad, bad man, Hwang Hyunjin.” Changbin remarks gravely, shaking his head, but he’s clearly amused, so it’s obvious that he doesn’t really believe that. “You got an extra shovel?”

Despite Hyunjin thinking ( _knowing)_ that Changbin can spend his days doing better things than help Hyunjin with tedious chores, especially when it’s only been two weeks since he’s returned and there’s probably people to meet and catch up with, errands and activities to do before his job whisks him away to another country — he knows because it’s happened before, because Changbin will occasionally ghost him for days before showing up on his doorstep or sending him a text explaining what he’d been doing — Hyunjin doesn’t protest, only lets the older help him shovel. 

Doing this is not nearly as therapeutic as Chan makes it out to be, though that’s probably because he said it’s best to do in solitude and silence, and that’s anything but his situation right now, not when Changbin is there, presence loud and his humming only a bit louder. Changbin moves like there’s always a song playing, and maybe there is, in that head of his. Hyunjin never hears it, of course, but he supposes that it must be good, upbeat enough, if that’s what keeps Changbin the way he is. It’s like music is embedded in his blood vessels, streams constantly through the circuits of his brain. It would be why rapping, singing, performing, composing— why all those things come so natural to him. 

On the plus side, they’re faster accomplishing the chore together; Hyunjin no longer feels like it’ll take him more than four days to get rid of all the snow. 

Of course, they don’t manage to clear everything, but they’ve somehow done more than half the work done, and Hyunjin is pretty proud of their progress. The sun is about the set by the time they finish, and the exhaustion washes over the both of them familiarly. Hyunjin doesn’t hate it; it’s the kind of tiredness that makes him feel content instead of resentful, like the kind he really only feels after doing laundry. (Enjoying doing the laundry is probably another indicator of Hyunjin accepting that he isn’t growing any younger.) Hyunjin lets Changbin in his house, and they immediately crash in the bedroom, sinking into the mattress for warmth that the thick winter wear they had shed could no longer provide. 

“The fuck are you doing,” Hyunjin mutters, when he feels Changbin mouth over his bare neck the moment the younger had closed his eyes. 

“Getting warm.” Changbin replies, still continuing with his ministrations. Hyunjin blinks, opening his eyes, but he doesn’t rest his gaze on the other. Truthfully, Hyunjin isn’t in that much of a mood to have sex, even if he always enjoys having it with the older. Staying in bed with him, side by side, touching but not in the ways they usually do, with no sexual ulterior motive other than to just rest and be within each other’s presences sounds more ideal, something Hyunjin has never truly had but wants, _craves_. He thinks about telling Changbin this. 

Thinks, but then doesn’t, because Changbin rolls on top of him, pinning his arms and legs down with his own. When Changbin looks down at him, Hyunjin notices how the other’s eyes have a tint of brightness in them, and Hyunjin tries not to breathe. 

“Hey,” Changbin says softly, as if sensing Hyunjin’s reluctance. “You owe me.” It’s phrased like a demand, but Hyunjin knows he can still get out of it. Despite the intensity in his eyes, Changbin will always give Hyunjin an option to opt out; he just likes being playful.

But Hyunjin has always been bad at refusing Changbin, finds it harder than spending his good days by himself and his bad days with people he doesn’t know. Besides, when Changbin rolls his hips down experimentally and Hyunjin feels his hard-on through the fabric, Hyunjin can’t help but let out a gasp and feel his own stir in arousal. His body knows what he wants, and Changbin knows it. 

Still, “Can’t believe you got an erection from doing chores.” Hyunjin says. 

Changbin shrugs, neither denying the fact nor feeling ashamed of it. “What can I say? You look hot when you flex your muscles when you do grunt work.” 

Ironic, coming from the guy with huge biceps and a six-pack. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond to that, instead slipping his hand under Changbin’s shirt to thumb through his hardened, flat stomach. 

Changbin smiles and starts to unbuckle his pants, and all Hyunjin can think of is that there isn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for that look on Changbin’s face. 

Changbin departs right before dinnertime, says he’s eating out with a good-looking singer friend of his. Hyunjin, for a moment, thinks about cliché romance movies about one night stands and unrequited love, large but lonely beds and the sky changing slowly, time ticking gradually during moments of suspense but speeding by during moments when things are at their peak. Then he shakes the thought from his mind, because they’re none of those. 

Hyunjin stays in his bed longer than he’s supposed to, staring at the ceiling and then staring at his clothes. Changbin had actually picked them all up from the ground before leaving and tossed them right at him, but Hyunjin hasn’t gotten around to putting them back on yet. He wonders if he can do it without leaving the mattress. A few minutes later, he realizes that he can, though he thinks that his shirt is inside out. 

As much as he doesn’t want to, he needs to get up, tidy up and prepare dinner. The only light his bedroom has is the moonlight seeping through the windows. A room with no light is no stranger to Hyunjin, but he still fumbles through the dark, only knowing where the door and light switch are from memory. 

He trips halfway through his journey on something soft and thin. When he gets up and turns the lights on, he realizes that it’s fucking _underwear_ , and it’s definitely not his. A laugh suddenly bubbles up in his throat, makes its way up to his lips, and maybe it’s weird that he’s laughing this badly all by himself when there’s no sign of a joke or a punchline to make him crack up like this, but he can’t help it. 

Fucking Changbin— Hyunjin can’t believe him. Who forgets to wear their goddamn underwear before going out on a date, especially in this cold weather? He doesn’t even remember Changbin being in such a hurry to go. 

Hyunjin picks up the underwear by its edge. “Fucking shit,” he remarks aloud, though there’s no one to hear him. It’s disgusting, but he’s grinning impossibly wide at the stupid garment— he doesn’t check if there are any visible marks on it to signify that they’ve been used, because he really doesn’t want to know; it’ll probably make him crack up much more anyway — and throws it to the hamper at the corner of the room, because he isn’t just going to leave it lying on his clean floor. 

He thinks about texting Changbin about it, if the older’s going to come back before his balls freeze from somehow accidentally going commando while he’s on his dinner date, but then he starts laughing again at the absurdity of the situation, and the room brightens even though Changbin isn’t there to do it, and forgets all about it. 

(It may be a petty thing, but the notion alleviates him from his previously low mood, like the world is exacting some sort of revenge on Changbin for making Hyunjin feel this way, the fact that Changbin’s just so careless, so fucking stupid.)

**;;**

Why? Are you in love with someone?  
 **_sent to Changbin, 01:03 a.m._ **

**;;**

Hyunjin met Changbin in his first year of college. 

All things considered, Hyunjin was one of the lucky ones. He got his first choice course from his desired university, one of the most sought-out and hardest-to-get-into majors; not to mention the fact that most of his friends were going to the same college as he was. The apartment he rented with Lee Minho — a sophomore, but one of Hyunjin’s good friends that he acquired in high school since they were both part of the dance crew — was only a five-minute-walk away from the university gates. Lee Felix, his best friend for three years and counting, lived with his grandmother whose apartment was right beside theirs. 

Hwang Hyunjin was a first year Management Honors major, and Seo Changbin was a first year Music Composition major, and they met one another through Kim Woojin. 

More specifically, Woojin’s birthday party. He was loaded, and it was a joint celebration with someone Hyunjin didn’t know, so an entire bar on the second floor of a building in front of the university was rented out and all the people he considered friends were invited. Hyunjin first met Woojin through Minho, since they were both second year and apparently shared Literature class together, but it didn’t take long for Hyunjin to get close with Woojin. 

He had his fair share of parties back in high school and college parties were a little more dramatic, but ultimately not that different. Having fun in events like those was never an issue for him, and some people he knew were coming, so he went. 

Seo Changbin met him on the balcony of the bar as Hyunjin was hunched over the table, trying to do his accounting homework. He was probably there for a smoke break, except he hadn’t gotten past taking out the box. 

“Not the party type?” Changbin guessed. Hyunjin only new his name and year — they were both freshman — and nothing else. “More of the—” He gestured at paper Hyunjin clutched onto in distress. “Nerdy type? I gotta admit, seeing someone do homework in a party like this is a first for me.”

“That makes two of us.” Hyunjin said. “I’ve been stuck on the same page for two days, and the worksheet is due tomorrow. I might actually just fail this class.”

Changbin peered over Hyunjin’s shoulder to see what he was doing. It was dark out, but for some reason, the table had a lamp that was bright enough for him to see his work. “It’s just Basic Accounting, man. You won’t fail.”

Hyunjin glared at him. “Dude, you don’t even know me.”

His rudeness would usually drive people away, but Changbin only raised an eyebrow, unaffected. “You have a point.” he admitted. Then, “Give it to me. Maybe I can help.”

Hyunjin doubted that, but he handed it over to Changbin anyway, switching it for his cigarette. Changbin hadn’t batted an eye at Hyunjin’s actions, and let him light it up and use it. 

In the end, Changbin surprised him, not only helping Hyunjin with the parts he had a difficult time understanding, but also giving him advice on how to understand everything as a whole better. He seemed to know as much about accounting as the upperclassmen Hyunjin would occasionally ask help from, but he wasn’t a major in anything business-related. He was a Music Composition major. Changbin only knew anything about the math because his father was a CPA lawyer.

"I bet if you had Accounting, you’d breeze through it." Hyunjin told him. After he understood the problem, he instantly became a lot more relaxed, and comfortably lounged on the chairs with Changbin by the balcony, passing around the cigarette. “We’re only learning the basics and I’m already ready to keel over and drop out.” He slumped back on his seat. “I wish this was easier.”

"It'll get harder." Changbin said, like that was reassurance instead of something to dread. "It's not life if you don't struggle to achieve what you're passionate about."

"Good thing I'm not passionate about business then." said Hyunjin. "Because at least it won't get any worse from this."

Changbin tilted his head. "If you don’t like it, then why are you taking it up?"

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Hyunjin said. After taking another hit, he felt a sudden wave of dizziness, and it occurred to him that the nicotine was starting to make him loose-lipped. “It’s just not what I'm passionate about, you know? I don’t— I’m kind of lost on what I want; what I want to do and who I want to be, I mean. I’m already in college, but I don’t have anything figured out yet. So pursuing business was the ideal path for me, because the best job opportunities come from there. It’s pragmatic; it’s safe.”

These were his personal thoughts, things he’d never even shared with his parents, just Felix. Hyunjin suddenly felt shy, but Changbin didn’t look judgmental, merely thoughtful, and maybe a little sympathetic. This, Hyunjin understood. No one ever wanted to be lost, to be uncertain with their life. 

“That makes sense.” Changbin eventually said. “Have you never really had a passion though?”

“I have, I guess.” Dancing was something he actively enjoyed and dedicated constant effort to back in high school, and when Hyunjin looked back, he could say for sure that it was what he loved the most, what he was passionate about. “But I never really wanted it to be my life.” he said at last. “Is that why you’re majoring in Music Composition? Because it’s your passion.”

Changbin smiled, like the question pleased him, and maybe he was a little hit from the nicotine too. “Of course.” he answered. “I knew what I was going to be since I was ten. I dabbled a bit in singing, but rap is where I’m best at— but I just want to be a music artist. I went to Music Composition for a major because I like making songs just as much. Music in itself is just,” he waved a hand, like he didn’t know how to put what he truly wanted to say into words. “It’s everything to me. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t sacrifice for it.”

There was a glint in his eyes as he spoke, expression made of sincere determination despite not being completely sober, and Hyunjin realized that whatever passion he ever had for anything in his entire life couldn’t equate to half of what Changbin had for music. He realized, more importantly, that every word Changbin had said rang true, that he truly believed what he said, in his ability to achieve those very things. 

“I’ll tell you a little secret though, just between you and me.” Changbin had told him, urging him to lean closer. Hyunjin did, and was amazed at how Changbin’s eyes seemed to glow brighter up close. “I don’t think I’ll accomplish what I want if I stay here forever.” 

And though Changbin probably knew as well as Hyunjin — he had to, he was smarter than him, after all — that becoming a successful music artist was a long-shot, more likely to _not_ happen than _to_ happen, something told Hyunjin that Changbin would make it big. 

Hwang Hyunjin was a first year Management Honors major, and he didn’t know what to do with his life beyond knowing that he wanted stability and that entering corporate would give him that. Seo Changbin was a first year Music Composition major, and he had always known who he wanted to be, knew that the path to becoming that very person couldn’t be held down by structured education and standardized evaluations of successes and failures that would only limit him from doing the one thing he loved the most. Hyunjin craved the comfort of familiarity, afraid to step out into new territories; Changbin, on the other hand, needed that very thing to thrive. 

From the beginning, Hyunjin was aware that they were meant to live and lead different lives. 

It didn’t stop him from being drawn to Changbin anyway. 

**;;**

Maybe. I don’t know.  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:05 a.m._ **

**;;**

Changbin and Hyunjin are curled up on the couch, watching a movie Jeongin recommended, insisting they’d love it because he personally did. It’s dull and boring, as harsh as it sounds. Neither of them is asleep, but Changbin looks like he wants to be. Hyunjin is too busy thinking of how the elder’s taken most of the blanket they decided to share because it’s cold in the house, so he’s mostly been relying on Changbin’s feet that are pressed against his own for any semblance of warmth. Changbin’s feet are larger than his, despite being skinnier, and he absentmindedly rubs his own against the other’s to create more heat than Hyunjin actually needs. 

Hyunjin doesn’t say a word of complaint, only focuses on the feeling and basks in it. 

“Well,” Changbin starts, the moment the end credits start to roll in. “That wasn’t what I was planning on spending my Saturday night on.”

Hyunjin only hums in rely, not completely bothered by the fact that they wasted time on some stupid mystery movie that had Jeongin hyped for weeks even though it turned out to be pretty underwhelming. He’s only half-listening because he’s sort of sleepy, so he doesn’t share the sentiment that much, mostly agreeing for the sake of it and because he knows Changbin likes it when people share the same thoughts as him. “How’d you plan on spending it then?” he somehow manages to ask. 

“I don’t know.” Changbin admits. “With you, definitely, but maybe not doing something like this.” Hyunjin puts a bit more effort into staying conscious because of Changbin’s words, because he doesn’t expect them. “Have dinner out, maybe? I heard from Minho-hyung that there was a festival going on tonight. There were supposed to be overpriced carnival games and ridiculous dances and a lot of people. All the things you loved back in university. We could’ve gone there.”

Hyunjin, in all honesty, doesn’t know how he would’ve liked to spend his Saturday. He just knows that Changbin somehow fits into that planless plan, into that equation, that he would’ve liked to spend it the same way Changbin wanted to spend it with him, whether they were doing the most adventurous, outgoing things in the world, or the most unproductive activities in history. Hyunjin isn’t really a fan of either, not anymore, but with Changbin, he’d do them in a heartbeat. “Next time.” he murmurs, a soft-spoken promise, shy and hesitant but full of hope, full of wary anticipation and expectation he doesn’t think he’s allowed to even have but still grasps for. “Let’s go next time.”

“Sure.” replies Changbin, and his version of a promise sounds different from Hyunjin’s. Different, but a promise nonetheless. Hyunjin cherishes it for what it’s worth. 

“You think it’s cold outside?” Changbin abruptly asks him, wondering, gaze fixed to the door’s direction even if there are no windows beside it to tell. “I didn’t bring a scarf.”

For a moment, Hyunjin’s mind flashes to the yellow scarf hanging by the coat rack beside the entrance, buried beneath so many thick fabrics but visible thanks to its vibrant color, if only someone would just peek through. It definitely doesn’t belong to him, but Hyunjin doesn’t tell Changbin about it, doesn’t try to wonder if it belongs to the other, because it likely does. Instead, he leans closer and says, “Don’t go out then, if you don’t want,” and tries not to regret what he had just said, tries not to think too much about what Changbin is going to say. 

Changbin doesn’t look particularly bothered, doesn’t have the same inner turmoil Hyunjin does when it comes to these things. “Are you suggesting that I stay?”

“Yes.” replies Hyunjin, after a bit of silence, unneeded contemplation. _Of course you can._ “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Alright.” Changbin agrees, like it’s simple. Hyunjin suddenly wants to ask him to come closer, but Changbin seems to read his mind, because he pulls him to him, warms him up while they’re both cold inside. Hyunjin tries not to react much to the gesture, but he can’t help but smile as he closes his eyes. For some reason, he half hopes Changbin sees, and half hopes he doesn’t. 

**;;**

How about you?  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:07 a.m._ **

**;;**

Jisung has had a pinched expression on his face from the moment he met up with Hyunjin for the day, and it takes Hyunjin approximately twenty minutes before he bursts in frustration and asks about it. 

“This clearly isn’t work-related.” Jisung says as he gestures towards rows of stores selling different products and services. The mall isn’t as crowded as it usually is; one of the perks of going out on a work day. “So why am I here?”

“Because you’re my friend.” Hyunjin answers. Jisung looks at him weirdly. “Because you’re Changbin-hyung’s friend.”

“What does Changbin-hyung have to do with anything?’

“I’m going to get him something.”

“But it’s not his birthday.” Jisung points out. “Unless it is? Did he change it? Is that like a thing, like with names?”

“No, you idiot.” Hyunjin sighs. “And who needs reasons to get people stuff?”

Jisung blinks. “So you’re saying that you’re just giving him something . . . for no reason. Just because you want to.”

“I— no,” Hyunjin stutters, realizing what he just implied. “But in a general sense, you don’t need special occasions to get people gifts. But I have a reason, so it doesn’t apply to me.”

“Right.” Jisung says, dragging out the word, clearly not believing him. “What’s your reason?”

“He— his album release.” Hyunjin explains. “So I want to get him a present. To congratulate him. For that.” In truth, Hyunjin doesn’t even remember when was the last time Changbin released an album. Two months ago? Hyunjin has no idea. Regardless, whenever that last time was, he’s pretty sure he didn’t get Changbin a gift. 

“I still don’t get why I’m here.” Jisung says. “Just treat him out to dinner. He burns a lot from performing and his ridiculous workout regimen, so make that all up to him by letting him eat for free. As your PA, I’d recommend a buffet so that your money will be worth it.” 

“But dinner only lasts for one night.” Hyunjin protests. “I want something a bit more permanent than that, so I need your help.”

“A box of chocolates?” Hyunjin gives Jisung a look. “You should’ve asked Seungmin for help. He’s good with gifts, like romantic shit.”

Hyunjin blushes, but he hopes it’s hidden by his cap. Judging by the look on Jisung’s face, it isn’t, but at least the latter isn’t calling him out on it. “I don’t need something romantic; I need something practical. That’s why I went to you. And because you also know Changbin-hyung well.” 

“Not as well as you, unsurprisingly, but I’m already giving practical suggestions. What more do you want from me?”

“Practical _permanent_ suggestions.”

Jisung sighs heavily. “Fine. What do you think is something he needs?”

“I don’t know.” Jisung groans at his answer. But then they pass by a high-end clothing store, one of the few that Hyunjin likes and thinks is worth the money, and something comes to mind. “Clothes, maybe?”

“Clothes?” Jisung frowns. “He’s a music artist. Doesn’t he have a lot of those? The amount of outfit changes he has for his performances is probably more than your closet and mine combined.”

“He just borrows those, stupid; they aren’t actually is.” Hyunjin says. “And he keeps on leaving the ones he _does_ own with me, so I’m thinking that he needs more.”

“Maybe it gives him a reason to visit you more.”

Hyunjin snorts. “As if.” He rolls his eyes. “He doesn’t even ask about them. It’s like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. I’m pretty sure he’s never even worn the clothes he leaves in my place when he’s with me. I have no idea where they come from.”

“Strange.” Jisung comments, a thoughtful look on his face. “What do you do with them?”

“I clean them. What else am I going to do? Throw them? What if he wants them back?”

“He doesn’t seem to care about them, so you should. I’m sure his fans will pay millions for them.” Jisung pauses. “Unless you wear them yourself.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t want to tell Jisung that he actually _does_. It’s not on purpose; it’s just because Changbin’s clothes get mixed in with his own when they get washed and Hyunjin doesn’t think much about what he wears because he’s never been that kind of person.

“I should’ve brought Seungmin.” Hyunjin says. Jisung hums in agreement, looking distracted. 

**;;**

Are you in love?  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:08 a.m._ **

**;;**

When Changbin kisses Hyunjin for the first time since he got back — not that Hyunjin really thinks about that, even though he knows the number of times they’ve kissed is only a quarter to the number of times they’ve slept together — Hyunjin flushes. He doesn’t really know if it’s because of the kiss or because they just had sex, but Changbin doesn’t point it out, doesn’t notice it much. Sometimes Hyunjin can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or because he’s Changbin, who doesn’t sweat the small stuff. The only thing worth sweating for, in his opinion, has always been performing, and occasionally sex. Hyunjin is the complete opposite, worrying over the tiniest of things. He thinks that’s how their dynamic works, really. 

Hyunjin wants to kiss Changbin back, but he’s too afraid to do so and doesn’t know how the other will react to it, so he doesn't. He’s an overthinker, but Changbin has always been the type to take things in stride, knowing what he wants to give and knowing what he wants to gain. Hyunjin know well enough that Changbin kissed him not expecting to be kissed back, so he knows he’s not upset or surprised by the lack of a response, but he doesn’t want to dwell on the reason why. 

They’re good at not acknowledging things like these. Hyunjin, most of the time, doesn’t even think twice about it. He’s starting to realize that this time is starting to become different. 

He watches Changbin pull away and slip out of bed, making his way to his clothes thrown on the floor. They’re the same clothes he wore three days ago, Hyunjin realizes, and there’s still a bit of dirt on the fabric, caused by hasty washing done without much thought and more rush. 

“You should stop leaving your clothes here.” Hyunjin says, because he feels like he should say something, but doesn’t really know _what_ to say, so the first thing that comes to mind just tumbles out clumsily. “So you won’t have to keep wearing the same stuff all the time.”

Changbin’s head pokes out of his shirt, and he turns to Hyunjin with a look of confusion on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” says Hyunjin, after a beat. He sits up and leaves the bed. “You’re shit at doing laundry, you know?”

**;;**

I don’t know. Maybe  
 **_sent to Changbin, 01:11 a.m._ **

**;;**

Unlike their unconventional but ultimately memorable first meeting, Hyunjin couldn’t exactly identify the turning of his and Changbin's relationship.

Their encounters with one another from the moment they met are a reflection of the lives they’re meant to live in the future, even if they don’t know that yet. Sporadic, but unforgettable nonetheless. 

College had ended, but their friendship hadn’t. Hyunjin hadn’t grown more confident in his decision with his major, but he already graduated with a degree, and he was content with the corporate world, could see it being his future. Changbin hadn’t finished college, but he was flourishing as a rising music artist for already two years. Hyunjin wasn’t surprised; he attended the small gigs Changbin would have in the busking areas of Hongdae and in random bars during the weekends, and Changbin was easily a crowd-favorite. Then he started having concerts of his own, and he became the only thing the crowd came to watch. 

They met pretty randomly because they both had things to do. Changbin would always have a beer or two with him whenever they would see each other. He’d always offer Hyunjin one, but he was never one for alcohol when it wasn’t in any social context, and would always get Changbin’s cigarette packet instead. 

“Maybe I should keep this.” Hyunjin had teased him. “You’re a singer. You shouldn’t be smoking in the first place. Isn’t it bad for your voice?”

“I haven’t smoked in a while, actually.” Changbin admitted. “Only reason I still buy it is for you.”

Changbin had amazing vocal talent and was an even better rapper, but he was just as good with words because he wrote songs. He carried the same level of confidence, smoothness, and sometimes the things he would say would get to Hyunjin. Make his cheeks heat up and look away, or at least punch him playfully in embarrassment, because then Changbin always looked so honest about what he said even though there was a teasing smirk on his face. 

They were both earning enough money to afford more than what they could buy back in their college days and were living off their parents’ generous pockets — and Hyunjin knew Changbin was raking in cash despite being considered a rookie artist because he had designer watches, occasionally wore imported brands — but they still had that habit of ordering takeout and staying over at Hyunjin and Minho’s shared apartment since Hyunjin wanted to move into a house and was still looking for places. 

Minho wasn’t there, because at this point, he was at his girlfriend’s place 24/7, so they had the place to themselves. The things they did were technically boring in an objective point of view, but maybe it was because they didn’t meet often that things never got dull between them, since they just had so many stories to share. They exchanged text messages and phone calls enough times, but it wasn’t the same as talking face-to-face. Sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all, just pull up a movie or watch whatever was on TV. Minho had a collection of board games because he liked hosting dinner parties in the apartment with his group of friends and Changbin always had a deck of cards in his pocket, so sometimes they’d do that. It would get repetitive, but Hyunjin liked routine and every time he saw Changbin, it was a new experience. 

On the rarer occasions, which have only happened around six times in the span of three years, if Hyunjin remembered it correctly, Changbin would play one of his unreleased tracks for Hyunjin to listen to. His themes were always similar to one another and full of its usual angst, but Changbin had never written a love song for anything that wasn’t about longing to accomplish his dream. 

On even _rarer_ occasions, Changbin and Hyunjin kissed. It had only happened twice so far. Hyunijn liked those moments the best. He remembered the scenario of each, and they had always been pretty out of nowhere. 

The last time Changbin and Hyunjin had seen one another was almost a month ago. Hyunjin would be lying if he said he didn’t keep track of the days that would pass until he’d see the other — it had been 28 days to be exact — but it made him feel good, knowing that at some point he’d have to restart his countdown because he and Changbin would finally meet. It gave him something to look forward to. 

It didn’t matter that despite being close friends, they met pretty periodically. (Hyunjin saw Felix and Seungmin weekly because they lived together and Minho was his roommate, even if he didn’t show up every night. Woojin had moved to another country, but in his place came Jeongin and Chan, who were Hyunjin’s neighbors.) 

It didn’t change the fact that even though Hyunjin knew that a key point to developing love was through constant proximity, he fell in love with Changbin anyway. 

So when 28 days had passed and they were eating Japanese takeout in Hyunjin’s apartment and Changbin leaned over the table to kiss him, he made the most out of it. 

They started having sex during their fourth year. Neither of them had been drunk or high, though there was the scent of tobacco in the air and beer cans on the table, as per usual. One second they’d been talking on the couch, and in the next, they were in the bed. It wasn’t really a thing they talked about, just a thing they did. There were no confessions, no talks of rules. 

They were no attachments, technically speaking. It was an on-and-off thing between them. They were free to have sex with people and fall in love. They just didn’t. 

“I can’t do one night stands, is the thing.” Changbin confessed to him one night, the first and only time they actually acknowledged what they were doing. It still wasn’t an establishment of boundaries. They were just trying to understand why they didn’t sleep with anyone but with each other. They were honest like that, because they were friends. “It has to be with someone I know and actually _like_ , otherwise I can’t get into it.”

Changbin’s reason was complicated: he never had any sexual attraction to strangers. If he didn’t have any significant connection with them, then he wouldn’t feel anything, wouldn’t have any urge to go past small talk and want to drag them to the nearest place where they could get privacy. He didn’t just have to _know_ who they were, he had to develop something with them, a bond, a special moment, some kind of relationship. 

Changbin’s reason was complicated, except in all the ways it was simple. He just couldn’t experience any sort of libido with people he didn’t care about. 

And he cared about Hyunjin. And he was attracted to him.

“So you like me?” Hyunjin teased. 

“I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I didn’t.” Changbin said honestly. “‘Sides, you’re beautiful.”

Or rather, it was Hyunjin trying to understand Changbin. Changbin never asked why Hyunjin didn’t sleep with anyone besides him, like he thought the younger asked him because he himself didn’t know why he was doing it, like he’d find the answer through knowing Changbin’s. Or maybe he never asked because he knew Hyunjin didn’t want to tell him. 

(Or maybe Changbin never asked because he already _knew_ Hyunjin’s answer. But Hyunjin wouldn’t know, because he wasn’t ready to confront that sort of possibility _._ )

Hyunjin’s reason was simple: it was because he’d always been in love with Changbin. 

“By the way,” Changbin began. They were on the couch, clothes disheveled from all the moving they’d been doing as they made out, but they hadn’t gone beyond partially removing anything Hyunjin’s pants were unbuckled; Changbin’s shirt was unbuttoned. “I got an offer to go to Hong Kong.”

Though Hyunjin was way taller than Changbin, he liked making a habit of being the smaller spoon. He always felt safe in the other’s embrace. “What for?”

“The company wants to promote me there. Their fanbase is one of the biggest, apparently, and they also want me to help make songs for some of their local artists.”

“You’re such a big shot now.” Hyunjin commented. Changbin laughed, and Hyunjin felt the vibrations from where he rested his head on the other’s chest. “How long are you going to be there?”

“It’s a four-month stay, minimum.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t help but wince. “Shit. That’s long.”

“Yeah,” Changbin sighed. “And that’s only if I pull a month’s worth of all-nighters.”

But Changbin sounded excited as he spoke. Hyunjin was pretty sure Changbin had been to Hong Kong before, because his tours were worldwide, and he’d probably been to more, farther places than that, but this was different, because he was staying there for more than a day or two. It wasn’t just a detour or a pit-stop. 

Hyunjin’s reason was simple, except in all the ways it was complicated. He was in love with Changbin, but Changbin was a rising star and had tours every year since his debut. He was so good that other countries wanted him to help their music industry; not just to entertain the public to perform, but to actually stay and work there. 

Hyunjin wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that this would just be a one-time thing. Changbin would only get more offers to go abroad. Changbin’s dream was more than just coming true, it was growing bigger and bigger with each day that would pass. 

The longest Hyunjin had gone without seeing Changbin was 35 days. Four months seemed impossible. Hyunjin was in love with Changbin, but there was no way he could do anything about it, if this was going to be Changbin’s life. Changbin wouldn’t settle down when his career was at its peak. And Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel like that period would be for a very long time.

Changbin didn’t deserve the weight of having to maintain a long-distance relationship when he was so busy, when he was having the time of his life. Hyunjin didn’t deserve the burden of waiting for Changbin to come home when those times would eventually become rarities. 

And they were just friends who fucked. Not friends who fucked and felt things before, during, after. Hyunjin wasn’t going to be the one who gave Changbin that sort of dilemma. It wasn’t worth it. And he didn’t want to give himself that sort of commitment to wait, even if he knew, that even without it, he’d do it anyway. Knew that even if he tried, Changbin wasn’t someone he could ever move on from. 

His love for Changbin was one of the few certainties he ever had his whole life. 

“I’ll send a postcard.” Changbin promised. “So you won’t miss me too much.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Postcards are old-school.”

“So demanding.” Changbin almost complained, but he was smiling. Hyunjin’s heart was hurting, but it swelled in fondness nonetheless at the curve of Changbin’s mouth. His lips were puffy from the kissing they’d done. “Fine. I’ll send something else. Custom-made. Just for you.”

They really were meant to live different lives. 

**;;**

But it doesn’t matter.  
 **_sent to Changbin, 01:11 a.m._ **

**;;**

Changbin’s awfully good at dirty talk. His words have always been something to be desired. That, or Hyunjin’s so out of it during sex that whatever Changbin says is immediately hot. Sex isn’t Hyunijn’s weakness, but it makes him weak enough to not think straight. 

Changbin, more than anything, is his weakness. That much is a given. 

He never really tells Hyunjin anything particularly new, but it gets him every time all the same. For an acclaimed lyricist, he isn’t that creative, isn’t that hard to read. Hyunjin knows that when Changbin praises him, tells him how he loves that Hyunjin takes him _so fucking well_ , it’s just to get him to cum fast and hard. Hyunjin does do exactly just that, but he also ends up thinking that it’s the closest he can get to an _I love you_ from the other. 

(The reality of the situation is that Changbin really does mean the words he says. The reality of the situation is that Hyunjin doesn’t want to see it that way because that would mean getting more attached than he already is. It’s much easier to turn away and pretend like he feels nothing when he deludes himself into thinking that Changbin isn’t as great as he appears to be.)

Sometimes Hyunjin has such boner-kill thoughts. It’s a wonder that he still gets dicked down as much as he does. 

“Hyung, do you ever think there’s something wrong with us?” Hyunjin asks out of nowhere, when Changbin’s got an arm draped around him, gazing to the side. Hyunjin is tired of staring at the ceiling. He never figures out anything by doing it, though it’s not like looking elsewhere gives him the answers he needs either. 

“What makes you say that?” Changbin asks, his face buried in Hyunjin’s hair. Hyunijn wonders if Changbin’s inhaling his scent, which is half-sweet and half-gross, because he’s all sweaty from the sex and there’s nothing realistically nice about that. 

“I don’t know.” admits Hyunjin. “We’re growing old, but we don’t have commitments to anything.”

“Pretty sure I can say with confidence that I’m committed to music.” Changbin says. “Or are four top-chart albums not enough for you?”

Hyunjin huffs. “I’m talking about relationship-wise. Commitments with other people.”

He doesn’t really know what he hopes to gain by talking about this. Or more like, he _knows_ — knows that what he wants is for Changbin to say that he is committed, and it’s to _him_ — but Hyunjin is afraid. 

He’s afraid of being proven wrong, because more than anything, he knows Changbin best, and he knows that what he wants is impossible. 

Changbin doesn’t reply, and that’s an answer enough. 

**;;**

Are you okay?  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:12 a.m._ **

**;;**

“Are you two together?” Jisung once asked him, when they were in his office and sorting through documents. 

“Who?” Hyunjin asked distractedly. 

“You and Changbin-hyung.” Hyunjin stopped. “Every time I call, he’s either in yours or someplace else. No in-between. It's like he doesn't own a goddamn house.”

It was a small world. Changbin knew both Hyunjin and Jisung in college, having met the latter because they were in the same major. The only difference was that in their third year, Changbin dropped out of university when he got accepted into a big shot music company as a music artist, and Jisung transferred courses and became an Economics major. The two of them shared the same sentiment that a music degree wouldn’t really take them anywhere to the heights they wanted to reach, but Jisung decided to quit halfway and go for something less risky. Years later, Jisung and Hyunjin met in a company with Jisung as a newbie employee and Hyunjin quickly rising the ranks. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin was stupidly pleased at this fact, but he can’t let it show. “No.”

It was— it was probably around the third time Changbin returned after staying abroad for a lengthy period of time. This time, he had come back from California, and Hyunjin had just recently bought a folder to store in the pictures Changbin would send him with a feeling that there would be many more in the future. 

Jisung hummed. “But you love him, right?”

Hyunjin would have said that he was bad at lying, but he was in a good mood because Changbin had already been back for a month and celebrated it the night before by treating Hyunjin out to a fancy dinner. Hyunjin had been to plenty of those already because of his job, but those were for work, and it felt a bit more like a date with Changbin. Not that Hyunjin said so. And it didn’t mean that Changbin didn’t play with his hands as they talked and waited for the food and Hyunjin got a fluttery feeling in his stomach the entire time. 

Besides, this was Jisung, Changbin’s best friend. Maybe Hyunjin was tired of having to hold the admission in for so long. It wasn’t like Jisung would tell Changbin anyway. 

“Maybe.” he said vaguely. 

Jisung suddenly went quiet. Hyunjin looked up at him in confusion, noticing that he also stopped working. “Does he know?” he asked. 

“I could never tell him.”

“Too scared?”

Hyunjin laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’ve never been known for my bravery.”

“You and hyung always have been so different.” Jisung remarked. He collected the stacks of papers they were already done arranging and straightened them out. “But you should.”

Hyunjin shook his head. “I can’t let it ruin what we already have.”

Jisung had already gotten half the door opens when he paused and turned to Hyunjin. “You’re just fucking, aren’t you? In my opinion, what you already have isn’t much.”

**;;**

You know you can always tell me anything, right?  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:12 a.m._ **

**;;**

Changbin looks good in Hyunjin’s sweater. It was a gift from Chan for his birthday, bright and soft and slightly off-putting for Hyunjin because he’s had enough of those kinds of clothes, but on Changbin, who has started to appreciate how good he looks in a variety of colors because of all his shows, it’s perfect. 

Dressed in the fluffy green fabric, sitting by the counter drinking warm milk as Hyunjin moves around the kitchen aisle, getting all that he the ingredients he needs to start cooking, the scene looks almost entirely too domestic. Like a cliché romance movie, Hyunjin thinks yet again, though it’s one of the nicer ones. 

“Mind if I stay over for breakfast?” Changbin asks, setting the mug down. There’s a bit of milk left on his lips, and he licks it away with his tongue, leaning forward as he speaks. It’s nine in the morning, but he doesn’t look as rushed as he usually is. Hyunjin wonders what day it is today, if he’s just lucky that Changbin isn’t busy for once. Hyunjin can count the number of times Changbin has been there the morning after on one hand. 

“Sure.” Hyunjin replies, pretending to not be as pleased with the idea as he actually is. He makes breakfast in fifteen minutes, faster than he’s ever cooked anything else in his life, and when he slide a plate full of food he knows Changbin will love, in turn, Changbin pushes a black mug towards him, having made cold chocolate while Hyunjin was busy.

“You drink too much coffee.” Changbin explains, when Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at him in question after catching a whiff of the drink. “I know corporate life is soul-draining, but you don’t even need it that much. It just makes you feel tired of the time.”

“It’s fine.” Hyunjin says, brushing it off, but he does appreciate the thoughtful gesture, and takes a sip of the chocolate Changbin made him. “Hope you like it.” He nods towards the plate. 

“I could never hate your cooking, Hyunjin-ah.” Changbin comments after a few bites. Hyunjin feels so flattered by the comment that he doesn’t get irritated the slightest when the older wipes his dirty mouth with the sleeve of Hyunjin’s sweater. “I can’t believe I’ve never had breakfast here before.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to finally quit and become a professional chef.” Hyunjin jokes. Changbin snorts, but continues eating. “I’ll make some more next time.” Making sure to angle his phone so that Changbin doesn’t see what he’s doing, Hyunjin checks his calendar instead of immediately eating, trying to recall Changbin’s outings and schedules and searching for a free date. He knows them better than his own, but only because Changbin never shuts up about them. Knowing Hyunjin’s own schedules is Jisung’s job anyway. “Wanna come over Tuesday?”

“About that,” Changbin begins. Hyunjin glances up. Changbin moves his food around for a bit before taking a forkful of it. He looks almost regretful. “I’m headed to Singapore soon.”

“Singapore?” Hyunjin echoes. It’s a different place from last time, but Hyunjin doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Last time was London, and Changbin was there for eight months. Before that was Chicago, and while that was an on-and-off-thing, it lasted for nearly two years. There were more cities, states, countries, more time lost, more opportunities missed, and Hyunjin doesn’t remember the last time Changbin has been in Seoul for more than three months. They were already reaching a two-month mark, and he naively thought that this time would be different. “When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.” replies Changbin, like always. Always. This always happens. Hyunjin should be used to it by now, but he isn’t. It doesn’t stop his stomach from coiling in discomfort, in dread. “I’m leaving this Saturday.”

It’s Thursday. He departs in two days. “You’re always leaving.” Hyunjin says quietly, trying not to sound accusing. It probably comes out like that anyway, because Changbin notices.

“Yeah, well,” Changbin shrugs. “What reason have I ever had to stay?”

Hyunjin glances at Changbin sharply. The look on Hyunjin’s face or the realization of what he had just said is likely the reason for the brief wide-eyed look on Changbin’s face, but it passes quickly enough, and it doesn’t change the resigned but firm look in his eyes. 

(Stupidly, Hyunjin wonders how it can be so easy for Changbin to get that look. But he always knows the answer. 

It’s not easy. But Changbin always sticks by the decisions he makes.)

He bites his lip, resists the urge to say something he knows he’ll mean but regret, because he’s taken enough risks all this time, and he can’t always be lucky enough to get away from them. He stirs the spoon in his mug in silence. 

Changbin finishes his plate and cleans it dutifully, even upon Hyunjin’s insistence that he can do it himself, before leaving shortly after. When he goes, he takes his dirty clothes with him, wearing them instead of the sweater Hyunjin let him borrow. Hyunjin can’t muster the courage to run after him and at least say that he can keep the sweater because Changbin’s smell is all over the fabric and Hyunjin doesn’t know if washing it will remove his scent. 

He feels like it’s too late. 

**;;**

I know. Right back at you, yeah?  
 **_sent to Changbin, 01:13 a.m._ **

**;;**

Hyunjin doesn’t go to work the day Changbin leaves, but he doesn’t take him to the airport and sees him off either like he always does. He hasn’t seen him since that day he walked out. 

Rather, he sits on a bench in a random park, remembering that time Changbin went to visit him when he was going to shovel snow and saying he wanted to do just this. Hyunjin looks at his phone, looks through his past messages with Changbin. They aren’t a lot, not as much as Hyunjin would’ve hoped or liked, because Changbin and Hyunjin are busy people in their own right, but it doesn’t make them any less important. Hyunjin stares at it, as if waiting for Changbin to send him a message. As if Hyunjin’s waiting for himself to do it instead.

(They don’t really get into arguments. They get into cold wars. Most of them get resolved eventually, one way or another, because Changbin’s always been a straightforward guy and Hyunjin has a hard time letting things go back to normal when there is unresolved tension, but this topic has always been the exception. Mostly because they never talk about it out loud, like they want to pretend like it doesn’t actually exist. 

If it was one-sided, it would be a lot easier. Sometimes it’s better to pretend like it is. Maybe that’s why Hyunjin does it.)

But neither of them makes the first move, and the chance passes the moment the next hour occurs, because Changbin’s plane has already taken off. Hyunjin pockets the phone, stands up, heads back home, and wonders what he would’ve said, if were to actually say anything. What would be enough, if anything was ever enough for Changbin. 

**;;**

Of course, Hyunjin-ah.  
 **_sent to Hyunjin, 01:14 a.m._ **

**;;**

“I know you’d be here.” Jisung muses, entering Hyunjin’s house without the need for keys or ringing the doorbell, as always. He probably has a spare key Hyunjin doesn’t recall ever giving him. “Then again, where else would you be but at home?”

“What do you want, Jisung?” asks Hyunjin exasperatedly, looking at the other in annoyance. 

“When are you coming back?” Jisung demands. “You haven’t been to work in four days.”

“What does it matter to you?” Hyunjin retorts, still the best at avoiding the point. “It’s not like it’s been the first time anyway.” he murmurs. He knows that’s why Jisung isn’t fazed by the state of the house, lightless and disorganized, dirty dishes and trash cans filled to the brim, clothes scattered across the floor and his phone dead for a few days already. Hyunjin doesn’t remember the last time he changed his clothes, but at least it means he didn’t have to do the laundry. 

“Still,” says Jisung. “You can’t keep on moping forever.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” Jisung cuts him off firmly. He turns on the lights, much to Hyunjin’s chagrin, even if it’s the dim ones that wouldn’t hurt his eyes for staying in the darkness for almost forever, because Jisung is mean, but not evil. The younger maneuvers his way around the mess with ease. Hyunjin is sprawled on the floor, buried underneath a mix of different clothes, but the position doesn’t make him uncomfortable. He swears he’s not sulking; he’s just making a fort out of clothes and has been living in it for days. “You’re surrounded by Changbin-hyung’s clothes. You’re hugging his fucking coat.”

Hyunjin tenses at the name, but he doesn’t deny Jisung, only tightens his hold on the said piece of clothing. It smells like fresh fruit. He found it in his closet the day Changbin left for Singapore, and kept it with him the entire time to keep himself warm. It was cold in the apartment and the coat had the best fabric in the world to combat it; it wasn’t because Hyunjin missed him. “I didn’t steal it.”

“I know. You told me before, remember?” Jisung says. “It’s ‘cause you like him.” Hyunjin doesn’t reply, only turns to look at the other. “So his clothes always end up in your house even though they’re not supposed to. Like magic, or something. That’s why he doesn’t ask; he doesn’t know it’s happening. Hyung probably doesn’t check his closet enough to notice things he isn’t even wearing are suddenly going missing.”

Hyunjin blinks. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“It’s not. You know it.” Jisung tells him. Hyunjin looks away. Felix told him, years ago, because he was intensely crushing on Seungmin, there would be plants popping up in his house after every time Seungmin came over to visit. Felix’s grandma was ecstatic at the burst in green life, but they were a hassle to take care of when they grew in number and were harder to maintain. Plants stopped growing when they finally got together, and things ended okay, but it’s a phenomena, of some sort, a physical manifestation of an individual’s love for one another. Never coming in the same form and never too harmless. Different for each person, for each kind of love. It was greenery for Felix and Seungmin because they met in a flower shop. It’s clothes for Hyunjin because— the sex, maybe. “What’s it called again? The Pining Phenomena?”

“It’s not pining.” 

Jisung purses his lips. “Did you tell him?”

“No.”

“Then it doesn’t count.”

Hyunjin doesn’t, only pulls Changbin’s coat closer to him, nuzzles the cloth against his face and continues avoiding the other’s gaze. He recalls the last time he and Changbin slept together, and thinks it’s the closest he’ll get to having Changbin by his side for a while. Singapore— Changbin hadn’t said how long his stay will be, but the opportunities are definitely great there, and Hyunjin has a hunch that it’ll be a year or more.

Maybe it’s not all that bad, because at least Hyunjin has this. Clothes. Changbin’s clothes. If Changbin ever asks for them back, even his shitty underwear, Hyunjin swears he’ll refuse. 

“It’s not like admitting it would change anything.” Hyunjin eventually says. “It’s not like it’ll make him stay.”

“It’s never bothered you before.” Jisung points out. As much as he hates to admit it, Jisung is right. It never has. This thing he’s had with Changbin has been going on for so long, and it’s ridiculous how he’s only starting to actively crave for something more than what they already have despite knowing from the start that this was going to be his life. 

“And who says it’s about making him stay?” asks Jisung. He sits down beside Hyunjin, sounding strangely gentle. “Maybe it’s about making him come back.”

And that’s the thing— though Changbin never stays, he always comes back. What makes this time different from all the others? What makes this time so unbearable for Hyunjin to go through?

He thinks of his dead phone and how he still remembers every measly conversation, wonders if words sent from a distance would have the same impact as words said face-to-face, if it’s possible to change anything. He doubts it, but Jisung is looking at him like it wouldn’t hurt to try, to have hope. 

“You don’t have to do it.” Jisung says. “But if not for you, then for him. Because he deserves to know.” 

**;;**

Goodnight, hyung.  
 **_sent to Changbin, 01:14 a.m._ **

**;;**

But that’s the thing. Changbin knows. Changbin has always known. 

And the real, hidden, ugly truth is this: Hyunjin knows that Changbin loves him. If he didn’t, Hyunjin wouldn’t be the first thing he returns to every time he comes to Korea. Hyunjin used to think that it was a product of loneliness, because Changbin was too busy for stable relationships but couldn’t get aroused by the prospect of one night stands, and Hyunjin was next best thing. But that isn’t the case, because Changbin is close with plenty of other people and spends more time with them than he does with Hyunjin in whatever foreign country he may be; not to mention that he’s famous, successful, loved by everyone. He could spend his time doing anything he wants, and though he does exactly just that, somehow Hyunjin still manages to fit into that equation. 

Hyunjin is in love; he’s not stupid. He’s not blind. He knows Changbin loves him because he looks at Hyunjin with a kind of softness in his eyes that Hyunjin’s never seen him give anyone else before. He knows Changbin loves him because he knows that being with Hyunjin is a burden when the younger’s still lost to this day and needs something to keep him going, even if that very thing can’t constantly be present, but he still comes back anyway. He knows that Changbin loves him even without words because he’s there for Hyunjin, as much as he can be. 

It’s just that even though Changbin loves him, there is no love in the world that can overcome the love he has for his dream. Music isn’t just everything to him. It’s his home. 

And Hyunjin’s real problem isn’t that he’s never had something to call home despite living in a single place for years; it's that the place he calls home is _Changbin_. Changbin, who is everywhere and nowhere all at once. Changbin, who has never stayed in one place for long. And home is something you return to, not something you wait to come back every few months in random intervals.

Hyunjin’s real problem is that he has nothing to offer Changbin compared to what the world is willing to give him. 

(“What can I give him, that the rest of the world can’t?” Hyunjin asks. 

“You already know what that is.” Jisung tells him. Of course Hyunjin knows. The root of his problem, after all, is that he’s always been too scared. Scared to admit that he wants to hold on, scared to admit that he thinks it’s too much for him to handle. He isn’t Changbin, after all. He doesn’t have that kind of courage to pursue what he wants despite the possibility of it failing spectacularly. He’s never been willing to risk losing the things he already has. That’s what makes them so different. But Jisung was right, all those years ago, when he told Hyunjin that what he and Changbin already had wasn’t worth much. Hyunjin is just putting too much importance into something that will, in the end, hurt him, finding a home in a place, a _person_ , who can easily just leave for good. 

And Jisung is right about this too. But it doesn’t make Hyunjin any more certain on what to do, despite knowing what he should be done. 

“The only thing you can give.” Jisung says. “Honesty.”)

**;;**

I’m just tired.  
I think I’ve been tired for a long, long time.  
 **_unsent, 01:29 a.m._ **

**;;**

how far away can i walk  
‘till i’m way too far from home?  
i wish i knew  
—fever dream, maia

**Author's Note:**

> pls dont hate on changbin for not staying lmao he really loves hyunjin its just complicated + i wanted to try and tackle that kind of dilemma of having to choose between your significant other vs your dream if they ended up clashing, but from the perspective of the other person and in the aftermath of going to the road of not exactly making a clear-cut decision and trying to get the best of both worlds instead.
> 
> anyways, thank you so much for reading! i don't expect a lot of people to read/like this much bc its quite angsty and stayo3 does not do well with that sort of pain, so the few ones that are here: huge kudos to you for making it this far! 
> 
> hmu on my [twt](https://twitter.com/hanjisquish) or my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/youngwings)! kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


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